


Keep Moving Forward

by JasonVoorhees



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Cyberverse
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, First Dates, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Maccadam's, Multi, That's Dead End he's depressed, because guess who's not dead beyotch!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JasonVoorhees/pseuds/JasonVoorhees
Summary: Hot Rod gets together with Soundwave and they go to Maccadam's. Percy needs their help with something and there's also a very interesting episode of "Alien Hunt" playing on TV...
Relationships: Dead End/Perceptor, Hot Rod/Bumblebee, Hot Rod/Soundwave
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	1. This is my boyfriend Hot Rod and this is his boyfriend Soundwave

“Beeeeeeeeeee!!” Hot Rod barged into Bumblebee’s room and dramatically threw himself into the other scout’s arms.

Bumblebee turned and deposited him face-first onto the couch. “What are you up in a tizzy about this time?”

Hot Rod rolled onto his front and kicked his legs in the air. “I think I like Soundwave.”

Bumblebee snorted. “I could have told you _that._ ”

Hot Rod rested his chin in his hands and gazed off into space. “God, he’s so cool. And hot. What do I _do_ , Bee?”

“Well, I’ve kind of gotten the impression he likes you too,” Bumblebee said. “Go ask him out and see.”

Hot Rod turned his head and twiddled his thumbs. “Yeah, but what if he doesn’t like open relationships?”

“Then he’s probably not the mech for you,” was Bumblebee’s answer. He grasped Hot Rod’s hands and hauled him up. “Cheetor never had a problem with it. It’s not as uncommon as you think.”

“That was different,” Hot Rod said. “We both liked Cheetor. You don’t want to date Soundwave, do you?”

“No, but you obviously do.” Bumblebee pressed a quick kiss to Hot Rod’s mouth and then steered him towards the door. “Go get ‘em, babe.”

Hot Rod located Soundwave pretty quickly. He was hanging out at the wall, giving Astrotrain instructions on dismantling it. Shadowstriker was helping a little, but she seemed to be spending a lot of time dodging Astrotrain’s feet, as he obviously didn’t care if he stepped on anyone. When she spotted Hot Rod, she dropped the armful of debris she was carrying and gestured at Soundwave.

Hot Rod strolled up as casually as possible. Soundwave crossed his arms and said, “Hot Rod.”

“Heyyy, Soundwave.” Hot Rod glanced nervously towards Shadowstriker, who was watching expectantly, and Astrotrain, who was watching nosily. Might as well get it all out at once. Hot Rod took a deep breath and blurted, “I really like you and I wanted to ask if you want to go out with me but if you’re not interested that’s fine and also I’m dating Bumblebee already and he’s fine with it but if you don’t want to because of that I kind of understand but I’d super duper like to date you so whaddya say?”

“Yes,” Soundwave said.

“Yes?” Hot Rod repeated. “Yes? Yes!” He transformed and began doing donuts. “Wooo-hoo!” He flipped back to robot mode and Soundwave played some applause, which Shadowstriker joined in on.

“How about Maccadam’s?” Soundwave asked.

“Sounds good to me!” Hot Rod said, and Soundwave took his hand. Hot Rod gazed dreamily up at him.

Soundwave chuckled, and the two of them started heading towards the city.

“Oh, so it’s break time, then,” said Astrotrain. He was holding a bundle of concrete and wire, and he tossed it carelessly over his shoulder before transforming and flying away.

“Then I’ll just go and check in with Arcee…” Shadowstriker said, obviously trying to sound casual and failing.

Maccadam’s had a decent crowd when Hot Rod and Soundwave strolled in holding hands. Soundwave began playing some loud fanfare, and a few people gave them sideways glances—despite the Decepticons and Autobots being officially integrated, there weren’t a lot of inter-faction couples walking around. Hot Rod couldn’t care less, honestly, because hey-ooo Soundwave liked him back! He sent dazzling smiles and finger guns in the direction of all the judgy bots.

He glanced around, and noticed that Perceptor had “Alien Hunt” playing. Awesome. Hot Rod headed for a table where he’d have a good view of the television, but Soundwave stopped him with a tug on the arm. “What?” Hot Rod said.

“Perceptor is waving us over to the bar,” Soundwave replied, steering Hot Rod in that direction.

“Oh, okay, as long as I can see the TV,” Hot Rod said. He and Soundwave plopped themselves down as Meteorfire appeared on the screen.

_“You folks would not believe what’s going on this week!”_ Metorfire said brightly. _“I’ve taken you on hunts to strange asteroids, forbidden moons, and jungles deep in the heart of Cybertron! But this week the mystery starts…. Right here in our studio!”_

“Ohh, new episode,” Hot Rod said. Soundwave played some more fanfare and ordered them drinks.

“Hot Rod,” Perceptor said as he poured the drinks. “Soundwave. It’s good that you’re both here. I need to ask you about—ah!” He cut himself off in midsentence and hurried out from behind the bar.

“Hmm?” said Hot Rod, who was only half-listening.

“He’s just stopping Sky-Byte from climbing on the tables again,” Soundwave said dismissively, turning to face the TV himself.

Hot Rod shrugged, leaned against Soundwave (because this was a date!), and directed his attention back to the television. Meteorfire was now explaining that, apparently, his studio was haunted. He had the camera in a corner of the room and was leaning into the frame to whisper. _“At first we thought someone was breaking in to play a prank,”_ he said. _“But then we decided to do a little investigation. Cosmos volunteered to stay in the studio overnight and observe.”_ The footage changed to a dimly lit studio, Cosmos crouched in one corner. The camera showed a timestamp at the bottom, rapidly counting by the 1/100th of a second. It skipped ahead an hour, and Cosmos’s position changed to sitting. Another time skip and the little bot had apparently fallen asleep.

_“Here it comes, folks,”_ Meteorfire narrated in a whisper. On screen, the studio was silent. Hot Rod leaned forward in his seat, his drink frozen halfway to his lips. Then, suddenly, one of the large objects in the studio tipped over with a loud _bang!_ and rolled a few feet. Hot Rod jumped and shrieked at the same time Cosmos did in the playback. Soundwave laughed, but took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Hot Rod. Nice.

The show cut back to Meteorfire, who said in a hushed voice, _“What was that thing that moved all on its own? We’ll show you after these messages!”_

“Geez!” said Hot Rod, finally taking a swig of his drink. “He really knows how to set the scene.”

“That looked completely fake,” Soundwave declared as Perceptor returned to the bar. “So what do you want, Perceptor?”

Perceptor—who, Hot Rod noticed, _still_ hadn’t gotten his optics fixed—paused and fiddled with the glass he was holding before answering. “Well,” he said slowly, “I wanted to ask if you could talk to someone for me.”

“Both of us?” Hot Rod wondered. “Why? Who?”

Perceptor nodded his head towards a corner of the bar, and Hot Rod and Soundwave immediately turned to look. Hunched halfway over the very farthest table was Dead End, staring into a glass of something green. “He’s been coming in every day,” Perceptor explained. “And he keeps staying longer and longer and drinking more. I’m… concerned.”

“You’re the bartender,” Hot Rod said. “You can cut him off if you want.”

“It hasn’t really reached that point,” Perceptor replied carefully. “…yet.”

“Why can’t you talk to him yourself?” Soundwave asked, managing not to sound _too_ condescending.

“I _did_ ,” was Perceptor’s reply. “He just grunted at me. And yes, I tried to get Clobber to talk to him, but he didn’t want to talk to her either.”

“Whirl?” Hot Rod wondered.

“I didn’t ask Whirl, but I thought he might be more likely to talk to you two. You were in charge of our squad, so to speak.”

“True, true.” Soundwave played some dramatic music and swayed back and forth in his seat a bit. Hot Rod grinned at him.

A minute later, Hot Rod and Soundwave plunked themselves down on either side of Dead End, making the Decepticon jump in his seat. “Uh,” said Dead End. “What are you doing?”

“What are _you_ doing?” Soundwave countered, playing some odd noir detective music.

Dead End sighed and took a drink. “Nothing. Go away.”

“So you come to Maccadam’s every day to do nothing?” Soundwave said. “Sounds pathetic.”

“Shut up, Soundwave.” Dead End tried to move away from him, but he was boxed in by Hot Rod on the other side. “I’m just drinking. That’s all.” He took a gulp from his glass.

“Percy thinks you’re developing a drinking problem,” Hot Rod told him, and Dead End spit his entire mouthful all over the table.

“Oh, Scrap,” Dead End said. He upended the entire napkin dispenser and hurriedly began wiping up the mess, throwing nervous looks towards the bar.

“Why do you keep looking at the bar?” Soundwave asked. “Should I call Perceptor over?”

“No!” Dead End cried.

“Ah- _ha_ ,” said Soundwave, as if he’d figured everything out. He leaned intimidatingly towards Dead End. “And why not?”

“Because,” Dead End said sullenly (although, to be fair, he said everything sullenly.)

“Okay,” said Soundwave, sitting back up. “We’ll just sit here until you’re ready to talk.”

“Or until we’re ready to leave,” Hot Rod said, because he and Soundwave were supposed to be on a date, after all. He glanced at the nearest TV and saw that “Alien Hunt” was back on. “Oh, I missed it! What’s the haunted thing?”

Soundwave turned to look as well, and Dead End went back to silently staring at the table. On the television, Meteorfire and Cosmos were standing in front of… uh, Starscream’s Quintesson judge heads.

“ _That’s_ gross,” said Hot Rod. “Why does he have that?”

_“We captured this on camera moving again not one, not two, but three more times!”_ Meteorfire was saying. _“It keeps rolling almost completely upside down. We can only deduce that it’s caused by Starscream’s ghost, literally rolling in his grave!”_

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Soundwave scoffed.

“Weren’t there ghosts in that episode Bumblebee was on?” Hot Rod said, trying to remember. Soundwave shrugged.

On screen, the camera changed back to a view of the studio at night. _“Our last experiment,”_ Cosmos said off-screen, _“is letting it roll and not putting it back!”_ The timestamp jumped ahead a few more times, and the heads moved by themselves again and fell on their sides with an unnerving thud. Hot Rod grimaced. Then the camera jumped to the morning, and just as light was beginning to spill into the studio, the heads rolled again and ended up completely upside down. Cosmos popped into view and squealed, _“You won’t believe what happens next!”_ The show abruptly cut to commercial.

“Primus, that’s creepy,” said Hot Rod. “So, Dead End, what’s the deal? Why won’t you talk to Percy?”

“Do you think he’s annoying?” Soundwave ventured. “A terrible conversationalist with a dull personality?”

“You’re annoying!” Dead End snapped. “And don’t say that about him!”

“I thought you guys got along pretty well,” Hot Rod said.

Dead End groaned. “We _did,_ ” he said. He shoved his drink away. “Then I ran off after Megatron and we haven’t spoken since I got back.” Hot Rod nodded encouragingly.

Dead End opened his mouth, shut it, and then apparently gave up and spilled it all out. “And—and I _want_ to talk to him but I think he’s probably mad at me because I _betrayed_ him. He probably hates me, actually. I’ve been coming in here trying to figure out what to say, and I end up staying longer and longer each time, so I keep ordering drinks because I don’t want to hog a table without being a paying customer.” Dead End paused. “I can see why he might have thought I have a drinking problem.”

“Okay,” Hot Rod said. “So you’re coming in to talk to Percy but when he tries to talk to you, you won’t? And I don’t think he hates you.”

“Why wouldn’t he? Everyone does, I betrayed all of them. Don’t you two hate me?”

“No,” said Hot Rod at the same time Soundwave said “Yes.”

“See,” said Dead End. “Even Astrotrain hates me and I helped rescue him, for Primus’ sake.”

“Okay, but you obviously want to, like, apologize to Percy, right?” Hot Rod said.

“You should apologize to us, too,” Soundwave pointed out.

“I don’t want to apologize to you,” Dead End replied. “But sorry, Hot Rod. And before you say anything, I _did_ apologize to Clobber already.”

Hot Rod raised a brow. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Just say the same thing to Percy.”

“I can’t,” said Dead End.

“But _why?_ ” Hot Rod said stubbornly.

“It’s because… because…” Dead End buried his face in his hands. “I like him, okay? And maybe he doesn’t hate me. But I still can’t say anything to him because I know he’s just going to reject me and then we can’t even be friends.”

Hot Rod and Soundwave exchanged glances. “That’s really stupid,” Soundwave said.

“It’s not,” Dead End grumbled. “You’re stupid.” He stared at his half-finished drink and didn’t say anything else.

“You really should just talk to him,” Hot Rod said. Dead End ignored him.

“Oh, you’re ignoring us now, too?” Soundwave said, poking Dead End’s shoulder. Dead End didn’t reply, so Soundwave started playing an annoying, jaunty tune. Dead End’s stare turned into a frown but he stayed quiet.

“God, you’re stubborn,” Hot Rod said. “I’m gonna go get another drink.” He hopped up and scurried to the bar. Perceptor immediately met him there.

“Is he all right?” Perceptor asked.

“He’s fine, he’s just dumb,” Hot Rod replied. “But before I tell you what he said, I gotta ask you something.”

Perceptor nodded, but before Hot Rod could say anything more, there was a collective gasp and the whole bar erupted into chatter. It took Hot Rod a moment to realize they were all looking at the television. “Alien Hunt” was back on. Meteorfire and Cosmos were standing in front of the Quintesson judge heads, which had split apart, and there was another bot on the floor between them, trying to get to his feet.

“Is that… Starscream?” Perceptor asked, his scope pointed at the TV.

“Yeah,” Hot Rod said disbelievingly. He watched as Meteorfire and Cosmos helped Starscream up, and Starscream immediately shrugged them off and fell right back over. The scene changed to Starscream sitting in a med room, pouting as Ratchet examined him. Meteorfire’s voice narrated, _“So it turns out Starscream was trapped in the heads, still plugged in, but totally alive! He’s very grumpy, but I suppose I would be too if I’d been hooked up to some dead Quints for that long! What a twist, folks! How could we possibly top this episode? Tune in next week to find out!”_

“Sweet Solus Prime!” Hot Rod exclaimed. “That had to be awful. Optimus knows, right? He’s gotta know.”

“Ratchet was there, so I presume so…” Perceptor said. “But about Dead End?”

Soundwave appeared at the bar suddenly. “Hot Rod!” he said. “Did you see that? Starscream’s alive.”

“Yeah!” said Hot Rod. “What the heck, right?”

“Come on,” Soundwave said, grabbing Hot Rod’s hand. “Let’s round everyone up and throw him a dance party.”

Hot Rod considered that for a moment. “That doesn’t sound like something Starscream would enjoy.”

“He’s gonna hate it,” Soundwave said gleefully, something downright mischievous coming from his speakers.

“Ohhhh,” said Hot Rod. “Okay.”

“Wait!” Perceptor cried when the two of them turned to leave. “Please tell me what Dead End said!”

“Oh, he thinks you hate him because of the whole Megatron thing,” Hot Rod replied. “You don’t, do you?”

“Of course not,” Perceptor said. “But—”

“You’ll be fine then,” Soundwave assured him, tugging Hot Rod towards the exit. “Come to the party after you talk to him, we’ll let you know where it is.”

“Yeah, bye Percy!” Hot Rod called, and then they were gone.


	2. In which Dead End is wrong about almost everything

Dead End was going to have a full-on nervous breakdown, he was sure of it. Why, oh why did he tell Hot Rod and (ugh) Soundwave that he liked Perceptor? They had gone right back to the bar to talk to him and they _must_ have told him because right after they’d scurried out of Maccadam’s like the horrible troublemakers they were and now Perceptor was looking miffed. He glanced in Dead End’s direction and Dead End quickly looked down at the table.

Primus, he was so _stupid_. Going with Megatron had been a desperate, impulsive way to prove himself—to who? It didn’t even matter anymore—and he had been regretting it ever since.

When he’d been helping Hot Rod and the others free everyone from the loop, Dead End had felt useful and needed and _appreciated_ , and all he wanted was some of that again. But he couldn’t, because he’d turned his back on them all, and now the best he could hope for was that they’d accept his apologies.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to Perceptor. Because out of everyone in the “squad” (as Whirl and Clobber had taken to calling it), Perceptor’s rejection was going to hurt the worst. So he just kept putting off talking to him, and he _knew_ he was making it worse, but he wanted to hold on to the fantasy of Perceptor accepting his friendship again (even if he wanted more, so much more than just friendship). Dead End banged his forehead down on the table and muttered, “I’m such a stupid, _stupid_ bolthead.”

“I can’t exactly disagree with that.” Dead End jerked upright and saw, to his horror, that Perceptor was standing right next to his table.

“Oh no,” fell out of Dead End’s mouth before he could stop it, and then Perceptor sat down and Dead End wanted to cry.

Perceptor folded his hands in his lap and said, “Dead End, I’d really like it if you would talk to me, but I’m just going to start by saying I don’t hate you.” Dead End didn’t say anything because his brain module had stopped working, so Perceptor went on, “I am specifically talking about you running off with Megatron. I would like an explanation for that, if you’d care to give one, but I understand that at the time, the Autobots and Decepticons were fighting and, well…” Perceptor spread his hands. He lowered them back into his lap, and Dead End dared to glance at him. Perceptor’s scope was aimed at him, so Dead End knew the other bot could tell where he was, even if he couldn’t see properly.

Dead End clenched his fists and forced himself to say, “It’s all right. Everyone is mad at me for that.”

“I just told you I’m not,” Perceptor said, sounding ever-so-slightly irritated. “What I really want to know is why you’re refusing to talk to me.”

There it was. His time had run out, and Dead End couldn’t put it off any more. If he didn’t say anything now, he’d probably lose all chances of talking to Perceptor ever again. And he supposed he had nothing left to lose, so he said, “I wanted to pretend for as long as I could that we’d still be friends.”

Perceptor was silent, and Dead End tried to prepare himself for the inevitable “ _we can’t”_ , because he’d convinced himself that was the only possible reply. Instead Perceptor said, “Aren’t we?”

That couldn’t be right. Dead End’s mouth opened and closed stupidly several times before he managed, “Are—are we?”

Perceptor shifted in his seat. “Yes, unless you don’t want that.”

“No!” Dead End said. “I mean, yes! I do want that, I just didn’t think it was… a possibility.”

“Dead End,” Perceptor said gently, “did you honestly think I hated you for what you did?” Dead End nodded dumbly. “Look around,” Perceptor said. “Half the bots in this bar are Decepticons, and most of them have done far worse than you. But the war’s over. Megatron’s dead, we’re dismantling the wall, and we’re all learning to get along again.” Perceptor set a hand on the table, next to Dead End’s, almost touching but not quite. Dead End just stared at it.

“Uh,” was all he could say, because he really was a bolthead. He could feel his pent-up anxiety starting to drain away into relief.

“In fact,” said Perceptor, “You and Clobber and Soundwave were rather ahead of the curve in that regard. Soundwave went right back to the Decepticons afterwards too, and Hot Rod’s dating him now.”

“He’s—they were on a date?” Dead End said, flabbergasted. He’d never thought about the fact that Soundwave had done the exact same thing he had.

“Yes,” said Perceptor. He didn’t say anything else, just sat there with his hand on the table next to Dead End’s.

All Dead End could think about was slipping his hand underneath Perceptor’s and holding on as tight as he could. He looked up at Perceptor’s face, dazzling even with his optics blown out and singed, and he said, “I kept putting off talking to you because it was going to hurt the most. Not… not being friends.”

Perceptor was quiet for a minute more, then he said, “I’m happy to be friends, Dead End, if that’s what you wish. But I have to confess I’d prefer a romantic relationship with you.”

The statement was so blunt and unexpected that it took several minutes to sink in, and even when it did Dead End just said, “What?”

“I just wanted you to know that,” Perceptor said, his posture stiffening slightly. “I understand if you don’t feel the same.”

Dead End was starting to feel a bit faint. “Soundwave and Hot Rod didn’t tell you that I liked you?”

“…no.” Perceptor moved his hand, hesitantly, and Dead End did what he’d been daydreaming about since the _first_ time they’d held hands, and carefully threaded his fingers through Perceptor’s. Then he squeezed, and to his astonishment (because he wasn’t quite positive that he was awake and not dreaming), Perceptor squeezed back. Dead End looked up, and Perceptor was smiling, just a small one, and when he spoke again he sounded nervous. “Dead End, would you do me the pleasure of being my boyfriend?”

Dead End was fairly sure, now, that he’d fallen asleep at his table and was most certainly dreaming, because no way was _Perceptor_ nervous about talking to _him,_ much less asking the exact question Dead End had fantasized about _._ But he wasn’t going to say no to something he’d wanted for this long. “Yes,” he said. “I would love that.”

Perceptor’s smile broke out into a grin (for Dead End. He was smiling because of _Dead End_.) “I can close up Maccadam’s early,” he said. “Would you like to attend a dance party with me?”

“I hate parties,” Dead End replied, and winced. _You idiot! He was asking you out!_ His brain screamed at him.

“I actually don’t care much for them myself,” Perceptor replied. “We could just hang out here?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Wonderful!” Perceptor stood, and Dead End immediately missed holding his hand. “Let me just take care of all these customers.” Perceptor turned around and spoke loudly to all the bots in Maccadam’s. “Attention please! I’m closing right now. If you want somewhere to go, Hot Rod and Soundwave are near the city square starting a dance party.”

Several voices raised in protest. “Are you serious, Percy?” “I just got here!”

“Yes, I’m quite serious,” Perceptor said. “If you don’t want to chug your drinks, feel free to take them with you and return the mugs tomorrow.”

There was more grumbling, but they all stood up (some guzzling the last of their drinks, some taking Perceptor up on his offer) and made their way to the door.

“There we go.” Dead End watched, in a daze, as Perceptor locked the door and came back over to his table. Perceptor had really closed the whole bar just to go on a date with him. Experimentally, Dead End bit his own finger. “Ow.” Maybe it wasn’t a dream.

“What are you doing?” Perceptor asked, sitting down awfully close to him.

“Checking to see if I’m dreaming,” Dead End replied. “I guess I’m not.”

Perceptor slowly, carefully slipped his hand into Dead End’s. “No,” he agreed. “You’re not. Is it so hard to believe that I like you very much?”

Dead End looked at their joined hands. “I don’t know. My brain module always tells me that the worst will happen. For everything. Constantly. And it’s been right so often that it’s easier to think that all the time.” He traced the back of Perceptor’s hand with his thumb. “Even if something is looking up, I just figure it won’t last very long anyway. And if I think I’m friends with someone they probably don’t _actually_ like me, they’re just tolerating me.”

“I happen to know that Clobber and Whirl think you’re quite fun,” Perceptor replied. “And Hot Rod seemed proud of the fact that he’d made friends with you.” Dead End felt Perceptor squeeze his hand. “ _I_ think that you’re extremely brave, and whether you realize it or not, you’re very caring. You’re also very good at thinking on your feet as well as taking time to reason things out. And of course, you’re incredibly attractive.”

Dead End snorted. “How would you know, you can’t even see me properly.”

Perceptor laughed lightly. “I remember what you look like, Dead End.”

Dead End was quiet for a bit, his mind running over all the things Perceptor had just said. It was still, somehow, difficult to get through his negative thoughts. But maybe if he let himself be reminded by everyone who—who cared about him… maybe he’d eventually accept it as the truth. “Thank you, Percy,” he said quietly. He found he didn’t have the energy to say much else.

Perceptor, being as amazingly intuitive as he was, just wrapped an arm around Dead End’s spoiler and pulled him close. Dead End leaned into him, hiding his face in Perceptor’s shoulder, and let himself enjoy the warmth and affection, for once not thinking too much about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll write "Starscream's not dead" fix-its for every continuity if I have to


End file.
